


Modern Medicine

by BuckinghamAlice



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: AU, AU - Dr. Clark Kent, Also Bruce raises his boys from a younger age, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Bad Flirting, Flirty!Clark and Oblivious!Bruce, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-09
Updated: 2013-10-09
Packaged: 2017-12-28 22:01:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/997435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pediatrician Dr. Clark Kent becomes beloved to his patients, the Wayne boys... as well as to their doting father Bruce.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Medicine

**Author's Note:**

> Dick comes to live with Bruce when he is five, and there is a twelve year age difference between him and Damian.

It was the last Thursday before the new school year began, and Bruce Wayne was taking his newly adopted son Dick Grayson to the pediatrician for his first check up. "All right, Dick," Bruce began, taking the small child's hand as they crossed the street. "You're probably going to have to get a shot or two, but I'm sure that won't be a problem for a big, strong young man like yourself."

"No, sir," Dick said stoutly. "I'll be brave."

Bruce nodded. "I'm glad to hear it. And you don't have to keep calling me sir."

Dick looked skeptically at his father but said nothing to the serious man as they entered the glass doors of Gotham City Family Medical Center. Bruce sent Dick to sit down while he was handed a clipboard to fill in the requisite information. Bruce came and sat next to the boy and began to fill in the questions he could answer -- name, date of birth, legal guardian information. But many of the questions were about family history, and he could hardly answer those or expect a five year old boy to know if his grandmother had had high blood pressure or if he was allergic to penicillin.

Dick looked longingly at a set of busy beads set up in the waiting room. "Bruce, can I...?" he began.

Bruce looked up from his paperwork and wrinkled his nose as he shook his head. "Germs. A lot of them."

"The other children have germs?" Dick asked.

"Well, yes," Bruce answered, glancing up to notice a woman with a redheaded little boy raising an eyebrow. He smiled apologetically.

Dick grinned. "And I don't?" he asked.

"Well, everyone and everything has germs," Bruce answered. "They're in the air."

"Then there's really no reason I can't play with those toys," the child reasoned.

Bruce wanted to argue with that, but in the short time he had been a father, he had come to realize that it was sometimes easier to just let these small battles go. Dick smiled and ran off to play with the busy beads and after a moment, the redheaded boy went to join him. Bruce continued to fill in the patient information chart until a pretty blonde medical assistant came to the door and said, "Richard Grayson, follow me to the back, please."

Dick got up and grabbed Bruce by the hand as they followed the medical assistant. She led them to a little room with two stools and an examining table covered in paper that crunched loudly when Dick hopped up there. The medical assistant, whose name tag identified her as Kara Kent, took the boy's vital signs and made her notes in his chart. "You seem very healthy," she said with a smile. "Dr. Kent should be with you in a few minutes." Kara took the clipboard with the patient information from Bruce and filed the papers in the chart.

Dick sat and fidgeted and waited impatiently. He tried to follow Bruce's casual, calm, cross legged example, but it wasn't easy. Bruce was reading a pamphlet on whooping cough, the closest thing to reading material in the room. When he noticed how the boy was squirming he reached into the jar of tongue depressors and handed one to him. "Here," he said. "Play with this."

"What am I supposed to do with it?" Dick asked, scrunching his face. Bruce gave him a look that instantly silenced him, so he tried to play quietly with the tongue depressor. He flew it around like a plane, walked it along the table, and stuck it up his nose. Bruce gave him a stern face for that, so he pulled it out and began to use it as a drumstick, tapping on everything he could reach.

Bruce sighed to himself but said nothing, as he was the one who gave him the damn thing in the first place. Bruce put his hand on his head and reread the whooping cough pamphlet a couple of times.

This continued until there was a soft knock at the door, probably fifteen minutes later. The door swung open and Bruce straightened on the little stool when he saw the doctor come in. He was young, probably around Bruce's age, and really handsome – like that kind of handsome that made a person question their life choices and the existence of a higher power and a whole bunch of other things. He was tall, even taller than Bruce, with thick, black hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders were wide and he looked like he worked out, and when he smiled and pushed his glasses up his adorable nose...

Ahem.

The doctor was speaking and Bruce had missed every word he had said.

"I beg your pardon," Bruce said, taking the hand the doctor was now offering him and shaking it. "I... I didn't hear you. Would you mind repeating that?"

The doctor smiled again and Bruce told himself to focus. "I was just introducing myself. I'm Dr. Kent," he said. "But you can call me Clark." Then he turned back to Dick and said, "Both. You can _both_ call me Clark. That was what I meant to say."

"I'm Bruce Wayne," he said, grinning like an idiot but trying desperately to sound casual. "And this is..."

"Oh, I know who this is," Clark said brightly. "This is Richard John Grayson. So do you go by Richard or Richie or what?"

"People call me Dick," the boy said with a smile. Then, "That nurse lady has the same last name as you. Is she your wife?" Bruce wanted to scold the boy for being rude, but he was far too interested in the good doctor's answer to be upset.

"Oh, goodness no," Clark said with a laugh. "She's actually my cousin. But why do you ask? You interested in her or something?"

Dick shook his head violently. "Oh, no way! Girls are gross."

"Hah, I guess in a way they are," Clark said, looking over his shoulder at a beet red Bruce. “I’m not married to anyone. At all.”

Bruce let out an accidental little squeak under the doctor’s sapphire gaze and tried to cover it by clearing his throat. “That’s good. I mean, it’s fine. I would imagine you don’t have much time for things like that. With your work and all.”

“I don’t, really,” Clark replied. But, with a bright smile, he added, “But I would certainly make time… if I met someone.” Bruce ducked his head, suddenly very interested in his shoes, and refused to look up again and embarrass himself any further.

Clark turned back to Dick and began to examine the boy. Bruce heaved a sigh of relief that the focus wasn’t on him, but he watched. He watched every move the doctor made.

Sometime later, Dick was sucking on a large and obnoxious lollypop and wearing stickers on his hands and the knees of his jeans and was feeling proud of the fact that he hadn't cried when he had to get his shots. They were approaching Bruce's car in the parking lot and Dick was practically bouncing. He looked up at Bruce and smiled. "Hey, were you blushing in there?"

"What?" Bruce asked. "No. NO. Of course not."

"Right," Dick said skeptically. "Do you like my doctor?"

"Uhh, yeah," Bruce said. "Why wouldn't I? He's a very fine... uh... I mean… a very _good_ doctor."

Dick laughed. "No! I mean, do you _like_ like him? You know, like husband and wife kind of stuff."

"Of course not!" Bruce insisted, blushing again. "Just... get in the car."

"But I think he liked you too," Dick said in a singsong voice.

"That's... beside the point," Bruce sighed. "Do you want to go get ice cream or something?" That was another thing he had learned in his short time as a father. Ice cream solved everything.

 

* * *

  
Several years later, Bruce had to take his two sons to their pediatrician because they'd both gotten a stomach bug. Dick was ten and annoyed by six year old Jason, but he insisted on holding the younger boy’s hand as they crossed the street to Dr. Kent's new office anyways. The doctor had opened his own private practice some months before, and this was the family’s first visit to the shiny new office.

The receptionist gave Bruce a friendly greeting as he signed the boys in. Dick was sitting in the first available seat playing his Nintendo DS. Jason was sitting in the seat next to him but leaning into him so far he was practically in his lap. Bruce sat down on the other side of Dick and picked up an issue of National Geographic from the magazine rack. "Bruce!" Dick whined irritably. "Jay keeps trying to get my DS and he won't leave me alone and he's driving me bo-nanners and I hate him!"

"I am not driving you bo-nanners," Jason retorted. "You're the one."

"You are," Dick said.

"Nuh uh. You," Jason insisted.

"You," Dick grunted.

"Enough," Bruce cut in. "You are both equally bo-nanners. We're all bo-nanners, and it's because the two of you don't know how to be quiet. Now, Jason, leave your brother alone and sit in your own chair. Dick, share with him. It won't kill you."

"It might," Dick protested. "He's the one who got me sick in the first place with his creepy first grader cooties. And besides, he's got his own DS. Why is he always trying to get my things?"

"Because you're his big brother and he looks up to you," Bruce said simply, taking solace in an article about Machu Picchu.

"I do not look up to him," Jason said dismissively. "And I don't have cooties!" Jason hit his older brother and then Dick hit him back.

"I said enough," Bruce said, trying to remain calm. "I didn't want to have to separate you, but I will. Dick, switch seats with me." Both boys grumbled, but Dick took his seat on the end and Bruce sat in the middle. Once separated, they decided they were friends again and they spent the rest of their time in the waiting room talking about their video game over the top of their father. And Bruce was quite used to that sort of thing by now, so he simply lifted his National Geographic higher and ignored them.

Before very long, the boys were called to the back and Bruce followed them, straightening his tie and making sure his hair was slicked back just so. He wasn’t trying to look good for anyone in particular… he just… it was important to look nice. It had been five years since he had met Dr. Kent… and that little crush he had once had was long over with now.

It would have been sad for a grown man to harbor feelings for someone for five years, no matter how unattainable and beautiful the person was.

The office wasn’t very crowded on this particular day, so Clark got to Dick and Jason fairly quickly. “My favorite patients,” he said with a warm smile as he walked in.

“Hi, Dr. Clark,” the boys chimed in unison.

“Hello, boys,” the doctor said. Then, turning to their father with a dazzling smile, he added, “Hello, Bruce. I’m glad to see you.”

“Hi,” Bruce said with a wobbly smile. He felt his pulse quicken slightly and he cursed under his breath.

Dr. Clark examined both boys and said that it seemed they had just caught a little stomach flu. He recommended bed rest, lots of fluids, and a liquid diet for a day or so followed by a soft diet for a couple more days. They were disappointed that they wouldn’t get all day suckers (because Dr. Clark had said that candy was the last thing they needed just now) but they did get extra stickers. Dick started peeling the backs off of his right away and began to stick them on his younger brother.

The boys walked out of the examining room ahead of their dad, and before he could follow them, a strong hand placed gently on his shoulder stilled him. “Wait a second,” Clark said.

“Is everything okay?” Bruce asked. “Are the boys…?”

“Oh, no,” Clark said quickly. “The boys are fine. It isn’t that. I just… well, I wanted to give you these.” He took two lollypops from his pocket. “Will you give them these for me when they’re feeling better?”

Bruce smiled and took the candy. “I will. Thank you.”

“No problem,” Clark said with a smile. “They really are my favorite patients. I mean, I know I’m not _supposed_ to have favorites, but with two great kids like them, it’s hard not to. And then they have you…”

“Yes,” Bruce said. “They do.”

“It’s nice to have patients with a nice, involved father like you,” Clark said. Bruce simply nodded and cocked his head to one side, and Clark nodded back. Bruce started to turn and head for the door when Clark suddenly asked, “Do you… do you like Bon Jovi?”

“Bon Jovi?” Bruce asked. He didn’t listen to a lot of music, but he thought he might have heard one of their songs once. And, well, he wasn’t about to so no to this man. “Yeah, yeah. Bon Jovi. They’re great.”

Clark smiled. “Wow! Well, I… that is, my friend bought these tickets to their concert this weekend but she isn’t going to be able to use them. So she gave them to me, and I just sort of thought… I mean, I hadn’t like thought about it in advance. The thought just came to me now. So… what do you say?”

“What do I say to what?” Bruce asked. Was that… an invitation…?

“Oh,” Clark sighed. “Do you want to…” He was cut off by Jason, who came to the door almost covered in stickers. Kara came up behind him, smiling.

“Um, Bruce…” Jason began softly, obviously expecting to be in trouble.

“I think we may need to reorder the stickers, boss,” Kara said with a smile. Clark laughed and looked down at Jason then smiled back at Bruce.

“Dick did this, didn’t he?” Bruce asked, hiding a smile. Jason merely nodded, and Bruce took his hand. “All right, kid. Let’s go get him.”

“Bye, Dr. Clark,” Jason said with a smile.

“Yeah,” Clark said. “Bye. G’bye, Bruce.” Bruce waved over his shoulder as he followed the boy out of the office.

Bruce and the boys left the office and walked silently back to his car. Dick had to peel a sticker from the palm of Jason’s hand to help him cross the street, but he took his role as big brother very seriously, even when Jason annoyed him. Bruce smiled down at the boys and felt a little surge of pride.

It wasn’t until they were sitting in the car that he thought about the fact that he and Clark were having a conversation and they didn’t get to finish it. And it wasn’t until much, much later that he realized that Clark had been trying to ask him on a date and he had been too oblivious to realize it.

“I love Dr. Clark,” Jason commented as they drove towards their house.

“Me too,” Dick said. Then, with a cheeky grin, he added, “And so does Bruce.”

“Ooooh!” Jason cooed. “Do you?”

Bruce glanced at the boys through the rearview mirror and shook his head. “What? No. It... it isn’t like that. He’s just a good doctor. A very good doctor.”

“Who you love,” Dick added. He and Jason laughed happily. Bruce rolled his eyes and kept driving silently. There was little point in arguing.

 

* * *

  
By the time the third child had joined the family, Bruce was decidedly very much over his little crush on the good doctor. He wasn’t the kind of man who spent years pining over one person… he was the kind of man who had a more exciting sex life than James Bond and, in his life before the kids, he had had near as many adventures. He didn’t need to have _crushes_ and _pine_ for people. There was nothing so special about this pediatrician that Bruce Wayne should be sitting and thinking about his bright sapphire eyes and hair that looked like it was softer than goose down and cute nose that almost made a mockery of every other nose Bruce had ever seen.

At least that was what he told himself every time he had to look the doctor in the eye and got a flutter in his stomach.

Dick was fourteen and insisted he was too old to have his dear old dad come into the examination room with him, and he was too old to have to go with his younger brothers. Jason, who was ten, and Tim, who was five (but small enough to pass for three) followed his lead. When Dick came out of the examining room and sat down beside Bruce, holding two lollypops, Jason took Tim’s hand and they went for their checkup. Bruce tapping the newspaper in his lap and watched wistfully as the boys walked away without him, wondering how they had all grown up so fast.

“Here,” Dick said, interrupting Bruce’s reverie to hand him a lollypop. “Dr. Clark said to give this to you.”

“Oh,” Bruce said softly, taking the lollypop even though he didn’t often eat candy. “You’ll have to thank him for me next time you’re here.”

Dick shook his head and laughed. “Or you could thank him yourself. Like a big boy.”

“Shut up Dick,” Bruce said, sticking the lollypop in his mouth.

Dick grinned. “So… ice cream after?”

“Definitely,” the flustered man responded.

 

* * *

  
After adopting three boys, Bruce was blessed with his first biological son, and when said son came to live with him, the whole family was blessed with more trips to the pediatrician than ever before. Damian, though just five years old, could be a little bit violent and contentious. The first few months were filled with cuts, scrapes, hairline fractures, bruises, and all manner of other injuries.

Jason was thirteen, and the only thing that irritated him more than his brothers (perfect seventeen year old Dick, obnoxious eight year old Tim, and Demon Spawn Damian) was his father. He was going through a rebellious phase, and everything about his father was wrong. Bruce would say one thing, and Jason was bound to do the opposite.

On this particular pediatrician trip, Bruce had taken Jason (and just Jason) out of school to come see Dr. Clark. That might have been good normally (because the Wayne boys all loved seeing Dr. Clark even when they were sick, and getting out of school was always a bonus) but Jason was in trouble. He had pierced his tongue without permission. He hadn’t gotten his tongue pierced… he had done it himself in his bedroom, and he now had an infection.

When he was called to the back, Bruce got up to go with him and he scowled at him. “C’mon, old man. I don’t need you to go with me,” Jason grumbled.

“I’m going with you,” Bruce said flatly. “Walk.”

Jason crossed his arms and pouted. “You just wanna stare at Dr. Clark.”

Bruce blushed in spite of himself but bristled. “Keep it up, Jason.”

“Is that a threat?” the boy asked. “Because if so, it needs work. You should ask your kid for advice on how to do that better.” Bruce turned the boy around and gave him a gentle shove through the door, and they walked silently down the hall to the examining room.

When the doctor walked in the room some time later, Jason smiled brightly. “Hey, Doc!”

“Hi, Jay,” Clark said happily. “Hey, Bruce. Long time no see. I think it’s been, what, two weeks since you were in here with Tim?”

“Yeah,” Bruce responded. “And that’s probably a record since Damian came along.”

Clark smiled and Bruce stared at his feet. Turning to the patient, he asked, “So Jason, what’s this I hear about an infected piercing?”

Jason laughed lightly. “Aww, you know. I was just trying to make a fashion statement and I guess it backfired.”

“Well, that happens sometimes,” Clark commented. “When you’re a little older, I’ll tell you about the time I tried to have my ex’s name tattooed on my shoulder. Talk about a comedy of errors.” Jason laughed, and Clark said, “While your mouth is open, go ahead and stick out your tongue.”

Jason did so and Clark took one look and said, “Yep, that’s infected, all right. You’re going to want to be much more careful when you get that redone.” He pulled his prescription pad out of his pocket and began to write.

“He is NOT having that redone,” Bruce said. “It’s going to heal and close and he’s going to be left with a tiny little dot of a scar… just enough to remind him not to be disobedient.”

Clark laughed. “I never took you to be a naïve man.”

Jason chuckled in response and said, “Good one, Doc.” Clark smiled and handed the boy’s father a prescription for antibiotics, and Jason sighed. “You know, Clark, you should really come to our place sometime for… dinner or something. We probably owe you, after all these years of you patching us up.”

“Jason!” Bruce scolded. “Don’t put him on the spot. I’m sure he has better things to do than to spend time with us.”

“No,” Clark objected. “I… I’d like to spend time with you. Your family, I mean. Not that you _do_ owe me. I never thought _that_.”

“You see, Bruce?” Jason said with a cocky smile. “You should have invited him a long time ago. I bet he’d have said yes.”

“I would have,” Clark said with a soft smile. He turned those shining blue eyes to Bruce, and for a moment Bruce felt like the floor had turned to quicksand beneath him. All these years, and those eyes still made him shiver slightly. He blushed and Clark blushed in return.

“Okay,” Jason said. “Why don’t we go ahead and exchange numbers and get this over with?”

Bruce shot Jason a deadly glare, but Clark wrote his cell phone number down on a piece of scrap paper and handed it to Bruce with a smile.

“Uhh, thank you,” Bruce replied. Clark nodded and left, but came back a moment later with a handful of lollypops that he shoved into Jason’s hands before turning to leave again.

“You owe me big time,” Jason told his father as they left the building.

 

* * *

  
It was just two days later when chaos in the Wayne household made medical attention necessary again. Clark received a call from Bruce at just before 9:30 that evening, and it was not what he was expecting.

“Cl – Dr. Kent,” Bruce began. “I… I realize that this is highly unorthodox, but I… we need a doctor here, and you’re the only one I can call. I can’t take them to the emergency room.”

“What happened?” Clark asked, already getting his bag and heading for the door.

“I’d just better explain when you get here,” Bruce said. “That is, if you’ll come.”

“I’m already on my way,” he responded.

Less than ten minutes later, the doorbell rang and Jason answered it. “Oh, thank God someone rational is here now,” he said when he saw the doctor. “C’mon… they’re all upstairs.”

Jason hurried up the stairs and Clark followed him. Jason led him into the first bedroom atop the stairs, where Bruce was sitting with Tim half way in his lap. Dick was stretched out beside them on the bed with his arm draped melodramatically across his forehead, like a fairytale princess who had fainted. And Damian was pacing the floor, his little fist wrapped in a towel.

Clark sighed. “What on earth happened here?”

“You’ll never believe this,” Jason began, trying not to laugh. “Damian got pissed at Tim and tried to push him out the window. Well, Tim moved so Damian put his fist through the glass. But then Tim stumbled back and fell out the window anyways, but he landed in that tree there and only scraped himself up. But the kicker is that Dick came in and found them like this so he tried to run for help, and get this – he tripped on the stairs and twisted his ankle. I came around the corner just in time to see him rolling down the stairs screaming, ‘Heeeeelp!’ Swear to God, the whole thing was like something out of a cartoon.”

“You’re not funny, Jason,” Dick grunted irritably at the same time as Damian insisted, “I’ll kill you, Todd.”

“No one needs to kill anyone just now,” Clark said calmly. Damian was the nearest to him, so he bent to the boy’s level and unwrapped his little fist and began to examine it.

Bruce shook his head and sighed. “I know I shouldn’t have called you at home, but there was no one else. If I’d taken them to the ER, they’d have thought I was abusive to them, and I don’t imagine anyone would believe that explanation of what really happened. That is, of course, unless they knew these kids.”

“Because there’s no way three dorky little kids are going to bang themselves up that bad all at the same time,” Jason commented.

“Except the three of you,” Clark said with a soft smile. “I’m genuinely surprised it isn’t the four of you.”

Jason laughed. “I can handle myself.”

“Does he have to be in here?” Tim whined.

Bruce sighed. “Jason, don’t upset your brothers.” Jason did a little salute, and Damian took a swing at him with his free hand. Jason swore under his breath as Clark gingerly reached around the small boy and grabbed his hand.

“I need you to be still,” Clark said, hardly having to stop bandaging his injured hand. “There will be plenty of time to attack everyone later.”

“Don’t encourage that,” Bruce said. “He and I are going to have to have a very long talk about why it isn’t acceptable to try to push people out of windows.”

And after the three boys were all patched up, Damian and his father had just that conversation. Well, Bruce insisted that Damian should be less violent and Damian agreed, mostly to get him to leave him alone. When that was finished, Bruce came out of his youngest son’s bedroom and found Clark waiting in the parlor as he had asked him to. Bruce had a lot of things he wanted to say to the doctor but he didn’t know how, so all he could do was return to him a lollypop he had given the boy.

“Under the circumstances, he shouldn’t get a treat,” Bruce said.

“Oh,” Clark said. “Well, you can keep it.”

“Thanks,” Bruce said. “And… how much do I owe you for this? I know house calls are extra, and I’m willing to pay for inconveniencing you.”

Clark waved his hand dismissively and shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I insist,” Bruce said. He went to his desk drawer and took out his checkbook, but Clark grabbed his wrist.

“I said not to worry about it,” he said with a soft smile. “It was no big deal.”

Bruce gulped and looked down at his wrist where Clark was still holding on to him and blushed very red. “I… I…”

Clark smiled and released him but took a step closer. “You know, I was… uh… I was hoping you’d, y’know… call me. After I gave you my number and all.”

Bruce looked up into his shining ocean colored eyes and sighed. “I – I did call. That’s why you’re here now.”

Clark laughed. “No… I… I thought you might call me for… well, you know. In like a social context. But… whatever.”

“A social context,” Bruce repeated. “Did you… did you think I wanted to… date you?”

Clark blushed. “I know. It’s stupid. Let’s just forget about it. I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“No,” Bruce said suddenly. “Let’s not forget about it. I did.”

“Did what?” Clark asked.

Bruce shook his head. “Want to date you. I do… want… that.”

“Really?” Clark asked with a smile. “I mean, I know you look at me sometimes and you used to act like you were interested… but I’ve been trying to flirt with you for years, and you’ve never responded.”

Bruce smiled. “You’ve been flirting?”

“I know,” Clark said with a laugh. “I’m really bad at it.”

Bruce licked his lips and came closer to Clark and grabbed him by the collar. He pulled the doctor in to him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Wow,” he breathed, once they had parted. “You may be bad at flirting, but you’re pretty good at that.”

Clark wrapped his arms around the smaller man and said, “Oh, that? That was nothing.” He kissed him again, harder and more passionate this time, and he smiled when he felt Bruce shiver slightly in his arms. He pulled the doctor in even tighter and ran his hands down the man’s back, both of them panting and sighing between kisses.

“Hey,” a voice interrupted. The two men snapped apart and their heads jerked in the direction of the doorway to see Jason with a smug look on his face.

“Jason, I…” Bruce began, but Jason hushed him by throwing his hand up.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me,” Jason said with a grin. “This is great. Dick owes me fifty bucks now.”

“What?” Bruce asked irritably.

“Well, we had a little bet,” Jason said. “I bet that when I found you two, you’d be in here making out.”

Clark nodded. “And what did Dick bet?”

“That you’d be at least partially undressed and probably doing something I shouldn’t walk in on,” Jason answered triumphantly.

“I should hope we have a little more self control than that,” Bruce said, rather breathless from both the embarrassment and the kissing.

Clark grinned. “Speak for yourself.” He put his arm around Bruce, who blushed deeply and briefly, very briefly, considered wriggling out of the doctor’s grip. But the impulse passed quickly and was replaced by another one all together.

“Go away, Jason,” Bruce said, glancing up into Clark’s face, so full of goodness, so handsome… so perfect.

“Ew,” Jason said, watching the look that was passing between the two men. He retreated from the parlor and called, “Dick, get out your wallet!” The two men laughed and kissed again.

“I guess it’d make me a bad doctor to say that in a weird way I’m glad your youngest kid is violent and the others are accident prone,” Clark said, pressing his forehead against Bruce’s.

Bruce gave the doctor a lopsided smile and said, “And I guess it’d make me a bad parent to say that I agreed with you.”

But much time was spent from that evening on with the good doctor and the often overwhelmed father being thankful for the fact that those boys had thrown them together enough times for it to finally stick.

**Author's Note:**

> So I reblogged one of those memes on tumblr and one of the questions was to make up a random AU. And then I accidentally wrote it. =P Hope you guys liked this silliness.


End file.
